“Please,” Grace said. “I’ll figure something else out. I just have to deal with the insurance company.”
You’re supposed to be playing nice, I reminded myself. Then I had a devious, brilliant thought.
I grabbed Grace’s elbow and led her to the study while the parrot shrieked his displeasure at the movers.
“Sit,” I ordered, gesturing to a chair.
She sat, all her camera bags surrounding her.
Turn on the charm.
“Drink?” I offered, going to the small bar I had in the study.
“Uh, sure?”
I poured her a scotch and sat behind my desk. I leaned back in the leather chair and regarded her.
“I am sorry to show up like this,” she babbled. “Gran blew a hole in our apartment when she was cooking something she wasn’t supposed to.”
“Meth?”
“No! Candles.” Grace took a gulp of her drink. “We just need a place to stay. I can’t move her into my company offices.”
“Of course not.” I poured her another scotch.
She accepted in gratefully.
“I am happy to help in any way that I can,” I said smoothly.
Grace was taken aback.
“You are?”
“Of course,” I purred, “but I need a little quid pro quo.”
“You want something in exchange?” She took another gulp of the drink. “Like, er, sex things?”
I barked out a laugh.
Yes.
“Of course not, Grace. We’re two business people.”
“Oh!” She ducked her head down, face red. “Sorry, I—”
“I am not legitimizing this fake relationship with you,” I told her in a clipped tone, trying to keep my brain from reminding me how she had felt under me on my bed.
“No, I want something else from you. A promise,” I said to her questioning look. “I want your word as a business owner that in the event that we cannot secure an annulment, you will walk away from this marriage without a penny of my money.”
“Of course not!” she said. “I never was going to.”
“Shake on it,” I commanded, holding out my hand. She slipped her smaller one in mine. We shook.
“I will allow you and your grandmother to stay here until you work out your living situation.”
“And I will not take a penny of your money, promise,” Grace said.
I smiled at her.
